The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1887-08-12

PICK. We Werc 70 kOcp t10M Ia oup
plies, and it looked Is il, after al
things might hare been worse.
And they got worse before . grea
while. The coal company pctered on
| Just as the real cold weather set in
We took back . big load of coal; it wa
DE only pay We ever got for our las
fortnight's work, and called another
council
Along in November late-about tn,
time when they were keeping Thanks
giving on the side where they know
what Thanksgiving means-we started
out on a buffalo hunt There wa.
enough to eat such as It WAS. for 9
month in the cabins, and fuel enough
to keep them warm; and by that tims
we thought work might begin again
Anyway. wc'd have our meat for the
rest Of the winter.
Well, it's no use to go over that I,
wasn't a pleasure trip We weren'i
out for the fun Of k. ling. Wecamped
out at night, and rode and shot and
dressed game by day, and did not starve
nor quite freeze to death; and we go'
back again on to the plains along in
December.
l wanted to push through and gel
home. but the horses were played out;
and all the next day. after We struck
the level, we just crawled along. We
had not heard II word since we started.
and was pretty automatically was
not well when left her; but there was
no choice about it. had to go; the
women were with her, and there was
doctor in the town, and Clayton had
a good horse, and we had to do about
that as we had done about every thing
else-take our chances.
l shan't forget that day. Along in
the middle of the morning norther
began to blow. It did not snow, al
though the sky thickened up with
gray, woolly-looking clouds, low down
and threatening. You never felt q
norther? A wind that goes through
your bones, that clutches your heart
and stops your brain, that breaks you
up. body and soul. You don't know
any thing about cold till you've felt
one. If there is such a thing as q
frozen hell, that's where these winds
come from. 1t isn't pure cold; it's
ghost cold, and oil the internal regions
let loose, yelling and laundering up In
the awful emptiness over your head
and round you.
Love the prairiese Well. you can
love them good deal better on paper
than anywhere else. Bat there's nm
awful fascination about them, some
how. It's like the sea. A man that's
got his living on them for ten years is
fit for nothing else in Gods world. He
can't get away. He's spoiled for every
thing else under Heaven. He's got to
have the sky and chance to breathe.
It's about all there is to get, better
than he can have anywhere else; but
it's sure fact that SO much he's got to
have whatever els: gets left It's ike
a poem, may bel amt much on
rhyme" myself-driving across them in
warm weather; horses fresh and well
fed, with a big tent and spring cots
for camping and supply wagon
with every thing you can think of
but ice. and may be that; all the
world a-ripple with summer green; the
south wind surging like warm ocean.
and the sky blue and soft and arching
away up to the great White Throne.
That's one thing. To go trailing along.
horses dead beat and half starved. pull
ing big wagon through s!oughs up to
the aXles or over frozen ruts that wiring
every bolt in the concern and every
bone in your body; with mile after
mile of dead grass stretching out to
the edge of the world; with buzzards
swinging up out of nowhere, more like
internal than any decent
live thing; with coyotes yclping and
crying all night-that's another thing,
and the kind that doesn't get talked
about much. Perhaps You remember
that item in last winters newspapers,
a half-dozen lines or so-two families
frozen in a Texas norther, horses. dogs,
and all just rs they stood.
That night We went into camp ten
miles from home. There was q ravinc
and plenty of brush, and the horses
were ready to drop in their tracks. and
that last ten miles was one of the things
that couldn't be done. So we got our
fires made and our horses fed and
sheltered rs wen as we could, and put
some heart into ourselves with buffalo
steak and hot coffee; and the rest of
them packed themselves into the
wagon. Some one had to stand guard
and keep the fires going, and took
the contract.
1t wasn't dark night. There was a
goodish bit of moon behind the
clouds, and it made gray kind of
light over every thing. We were Mt
the bottom of dry canyon that ran
east and west, and the wind did not
reach us. 1t screeched and screamed
over our heads, and through it all
there was a kind of moaning roar. as
if we were ut the bottom of tide as
deep as the stars are high. got to
about old times awayvbsck, of
one Sunday night just before we were
had gone East little sooner
than we expected and mad to wait for
her things to be finished We went to
church that night. A keen; crisp. still
night it was. when the sleigh-ruuners
squeaked on the snow and the moon
Light traced the shadows of the elms on
the white ground as if they had been
put in in black drawing. The church